Page 66 of Fierce Lies


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Roman's gaze shifted to our attire, taking in my dressing gown and Jackson's briefs with a raised eyebrow. "Interesting choice of clothing for a kidnapping."

Heat crept up my neck as I became acutely aware of how we must look. The evidence of our intimacy was written all over us.

"I was staying the night at Elena's," Jackson explained, his voice steady. "You asked me to keep an eye on her."

I shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Roman's eyes. I still wasn't sure how to feel about knowing Jackson had been assigned towatch me, especially given what had actually happened between us before the phone call that must've been with Roman. Had our connection been genuine, or just part of his job? The thought made my chest ache.

Roman arched a brow but nodded. "I'll have clothes waiting for you both at the hospital."

"Will someone go look for Alfeo's body?" I asked softly. The image of him falling after I'd pulled that trigger, the sound of the gunshot, his body lying there as I'd gone back for the first-aid kit, the way his body had been dragged away by whatever lurked in those woods—it all haunted me, swimming through my mind like some sick video stuck on repeat.

Roman glanced at Jackson. "Was it a kill shot?"

"Yes," Jackson confirmed without hesitation.

"The Malatestas will recover what they can," Roman said. "But for murdering his own blood, they'll likely leave him to the scavengers, especially since the body was already dragged off by wildlife."

My stomach knotted at the thought. Though I wasn't sure if it was the gruesome image or just hunger and exhaustion catching up with me. I wished I could crawl back into my old bed in the house with my mom and sleep for days, pretend none of this had happened. Pretend I hadn't killed a man. Pretend I wasn't falling for someone who lived in this dangerous world. Someone who could have been using me, who I was just a job to.

What had I expected?

But we'd shared moments, especially last night, in the house during the storm. He'd opened up to me fully, revealing a part of him I doubted many knew.

Ivy squeezed my other hand. "We survived," she murmured, her voice pitched low enough that only I could hear. "Everything will be okay."

I glanced at Jackson, at the weariness on his face, at the hard set of his jaw as he stared out the windshield. I thought about Meredith in the hospital, pregnant and facing complications. I thought about my mother, still unaware of everything that had happened. I thought about the gun I'd fired and the life I'd taken.

Nothing would be the same after this. I'd crossed a line I could never uncross. I'd taken a life to save another, and that knowledge would live in me forever, changing me in ways I couldn't yet understand.

As we drove toward the hospital and whatever waited for us there, I knew one thing with absolute certainty. Everything was going to change.

We pulled into the hospital parking lot just as Roman's phone rang. He answered, and whatever he heard made his face go pale.

"Leo's ordering blood in," Roman said, already driving toward the entrance. "She needs a transfusion. They've run out of it."

My heart stuttered in my chest. I knew that type without even having to ask, the one I always donated where I could because it was the first one to run out. The type that was a universal donor type but could receive the same. "O negative, right?" I asked, already unbuckling my seatbelt with trembling fingers.

Roman nodded, his expression grim. I didn't wait for anyone's permission. "That's me. I'll donate."

No one argued. Jackson turned in his seat, but I was already out the door as the car came to a stop by the entrance.

The warm afternoon air hit my face as I rushed toward the emergency entrance. Would this be enough to save her? Wouldthis somehow make up for my deception? Would this help me pay for the crime I'd committed last night? The life I'd stolen?

"Elena!" Ivy rushed after me, snatching my hand as I entered the hospital and looked around, unsure where to go. My attire had a few people slowing to look at me.

Thankfully, Roman and Jackson were right behind, and I vaguely wondered if they'd left the car parked right there at the entrance.

Roman called for help, and then everything moved with the controlled chaos only hospitals possess. A nurse in blue scrubs took Jackson one way for his own injuries, while I was rushed down another corridor, the fluorescent lights blurring above me like stars streaking past. The antiseptic smell burned my nostrils, grounding me in the reality of what was happening.

"This way," a technician said, guiding me with a hand on my elbow. "We need to type and cross-match you first, even though you know your blood type."

"Whatever you need to do," I said, rolling up my sleeve, feeling silly in my dressing gown with bare feet. "Just hurry."

As we rounded a corner, I saw him. Grayson Donati. My half-brother. He stood with his back against the wall, his designer suit rumpled, his face pale and drawn. He looked like he was barely holding it together. He looked at me like he didn't know what to make of me, which was fair, since he had no idea who I really was.

Beside him stood a man that made me want to shrink into myself. A man with a hardened jaw and a posture that made me believe he was someone powerful, especially in that dark suit. There was just something about him that screamed danger.

He glanced my way, those piercing blue eyes boring into me, before he fished his phone from his pocket and accepted a call. I watched as he turned and strode away, leaving me with afeeling like I'd just stared into the jaws of a lion and walked away unscathed.